


kept us awake with wolves' teeth (sharing different heartbeats)

by notcaycepollard



Series: the grace in monsters [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Comeplay, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:25:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8736520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcaycepollard/pseuds/notcaycepollard
Summary: Really, Sam’s just giving Bucky what he wants, that’s all.“We got the house to ourselves,” Sam murmurs. “Can make as much noise as we want.”“I mean,” Bucky says with a crooked smile, “that doesn’t really stop us, usually,” and yeah, that is true. Poor Steve, Sam thinks, and immediately gets distracted by how Bucky is looking at him like maybe he just wants to eat Sam right up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> a continuation/director's cut extra footage from ['you touch me within and so i (know i could be human once again)'](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7456897). read that one for the relationship build-up. read this one for the werewolf porn.

Really, Sam’s just giving Bucky what he wants, that’s all.

“I gotta go away, the next couple days,” Steve says one morning. “Some political thing, I dunno, it’ll probably be real dull.”

“Right,” Sam says, “sure, okay. You need me to come with you?”

“Shit, full moon’s not for a couple weeks yet, we could both come,” Bucky offers. Sips his coffee. “We’ll make it a road trip, it’ll be super fun.” Sam’s pretty sure Steve blanches a little just at the suggestion.

“No,” Steve says hastily through a mouthful of toast and peanut butter, “no, you really don’t gotta- I’ll be fine on my own. Just don’t wreck the house doing weird wolf stuff, okay.”

“You hear that,” Bucky says, nudging Sam’s knee under the table and grinning sideways, sharp, “sounds like a challenge to me, right.”

“Don’t-” Steve starts. Sighs. “Just don’t fuck in my bed, at least.”

“Steve,” Bucky says solemnly, “our bed is triple reinforced steel with four-point restraints, Belgian linen sheets and lavender goose-down pillows. Why the fuck would we fuck in _your_ bed.”

“Oh my god,” Sam says, feeling his flush spread from his face slowly down his neck, “you don’t have to _tell him that_ , Steve doesn’t need to know the shit we get up to,” and Steve laughs, pats him on the shoulder.

“This house isn’t exactly sound-proofed,” he says, “I got a pretty good idea of the shit you’ve been up to,” and Sam just puts his head down on the table and groans out loud.

It doesn’t stop him from making plans, though. He definitely has plans. He’s definitely _thinking_ about his plans, fuck, he should probably hold off on that whole thing until later on when they’re not at the fucking breakfast table with Steve, but come on.

Bucky drops his hand to Sam’s thigh, squeezes a little, and Sam glances up, catches how Bucky’s beginning to blush high across his cheekbones. Oh. _Oh_. Of course Bucky can smell it on his skin, the heat of arousal flaring bright in the air, and Sam, well. Sam’s not gonna lie; he loves that Bucky can read him this easily. Loves watching him get worked up over Sam’s attraction.

“Jesus,” Steve mutters, “I haven’t even gone yet, keep it in your pants,” and Bucky rolls his eyes, moves his hand higher up Sam’s thigh.

 

Steve takes off that afternoon; Sam’s still waving goodbye when Bucky moves in closer, presses his nose against the nape of Sam’s neck.

“Oh my god,” Sam laughs, “you’re so fucking _impatient_ , Barnes,” and Bucky huffs out a frustrated little breath, kisses Sam’s throat and then licks at his skin.

“You _promised_ ,” he says, the hint of a whine in his voice like he’s already pouting, and Sam didn’t say a thing out loud but he probably didn’t need to, really.

“Yeah?” he asks anyway, teasing, “you think I should give you what you want?” and hears Bucky’s breath hitch just a little.

“ _Sam_ ,” he growls, “sweetheart, don’t make me beg,” and Sam leans in against him, slides one hand up under Bucky’s shirt hem. Undoes the buttons at his throat, tugs his shirt open just to check, and yeah, Bucky’s already wearing the collar, the leather smooth and warm against his skin.

“Oh, I’m gonna,” he says lightly, “c’mon, carry me upstairs,” and he usually doesn’t let Bucky pick him up like this out of sheer principle - it’s hard on the ego being the only regular human in a house of supersoldiers and honest-to-fuck _werewolves_ \- but nobody is around right now, and the way Bucky scoops him up, hands under Sam’s thighs, it’s _really fucking hot_.

“You could just fuck me up against a wall, huh,” he says, “that’d practically be _easy_ for you,” and Bucky laughs softly at him.

“Sweetheart, I could fuck you up against a wall while holding you up with just one hand, and you know it.” He emphasizes his point by squeezing Sam’s butt, dragging his teeth sharp along the side of his neck, sucking a bruise into the skin just behind Sam’s ear, and Sam shivers full-body, wraps his legs tighter around Bucky’s waist.

“Yeah,” he agrees, hearing his own voice go soft and breathy, “ _yeah_ , you could.”

“Should I?” Bucky growls, “is that what you want?” and Sam grabs him by the hair, pulls just hard enough to make him growl again.

“Uh uh,” he says, “bedroom. _Now_.”

 

They sleep most of the time these days in what used to be Sam’s room, with some adjustments. A huge bed, for one; Bucky wasn’t kidding about it being reinforced steel, and it’s the third frame they’ve tried and the only one so far that hasn’t broken. _Guess I don’t know my own strength_ , Bucky had said, smirking at the wreckage, and Sam had laughed so hard he cried.

The ridiculously expensive bed linen, that’s just Sam giving in to the fact that Bucky’s real into textures and comfort. Would never admit it, but Sam catches him nuzzling against Sam when he’s wearing a particularly worn-in and soft t-shirt, stroking his fingers down the nap of velvet, and whatever. They’ve got credit cards for a reason.

“Take off your shirt,” Sam tells Bucky, stepping back to watch him obey, and Bucky unbuttons it, fingers clumsy. Bites his lip as Sam pulls off his own t-shirt and takes Bucky’s shirt, slides it on. It’s a little too big on Sam, loose in the shoulders, but he buttons it up anyway, settles the collar, rolls up the sleeves. Brushes his fingers over the soft flannel. It smells like Bucky: clean cotton, pine sap, the faint musk of warm sweat. Sam loves wearing Bucky’s clothes. _Bucky_ loves Sam wearing Bucky’s clothes, shit, loves smelling himself on Sam's skin, Sam doesn’t know whether it’s that weird protective thing or Bucky just being nasty but it’s not like it makes much difference, really. Bucky watches, eyes wide and pupils already blown dark, and Sam reaches for him, grabs him by the collar and reels him in.

“We got the house to ourselves,” Sam murmurs. “Can make as much noise as we want.”

“I mean,” Bucky says with a crooked smile, “that doesn’t really stop us, usually,” and yeah, that is true. _Poor Steve,_ Sam thinks, and immediately gets distracted by how Bucky is looking at him like maybe he just wants to eat Sam right up.

“You gonna be good for me?” Sam asks, and Bucky nods, chewing at his lip again. “Yeah, baby, I know you are. Take off your pants and get on the bed, huh.” Bucky obeys so fast Sam just looks at him for a minute, how he’s spread out and panting a little, chest rising and falling with each breath. Reaches out and touches his ribs, his smooth warm skin, and brushes his fingers over one nipple.

“You’re not getting naked?” Bucky asks, a furrow between his eyes, and Sam smiles down at him, reaches for his left wrist and pushes it into the restraint.

“Nope,” he says, “not yet,” and gets Bucky’s right wrist locked tight, leans down to secure his ankles. Bucky’s breathing harder spread out like this, dick hard and wet against the flat of his belly, and Sam bends over, kisses him very slow and tender. Steps back and undoes his belt, shoves his pants down and leaves them crumpled on the floor. He’s pretty hard himself, fuck, having Bucky all compliant and trusting like this is absolutely doing it for him, and when Sam strokes himself idly Bucky makes this sweet little noise, cranes his head to get a better view.

“You need another pillow, baby?” Sam asks him. Straddles him, letting his dick drag against Bucky’s in a deliberate tease, and grabs another pillow, fluffs it up, tucks it behind Bucky’s head. Touches his hair, his cheek, his mouth, fingers light and gentle against Bucky’s skin, and Bucky kisses his fingertips, blinks up at him with eyes so full of trust Sam’s a little emotional about it. “Oh, you’re so pretty like this, you know that? Makes me want to get you filthy just to watch you come apart.”

“Sam-” Bucky starts. Swallows hard. Sam smiles at him again, slow and teasing, and watches the blush spread down Bucky’s throat, his collarbones and shoulders. “ _Sam_ ,” he says again, needy, and Sam shifts down until he’s kneeling between Bucky’s thighs. Wraps his hand around his own dick and begins to stroke, and Bucky moans, licks his lips, swallows again.

“Here’s what I’m gonna do,” Sam tells him. Rubs his thumb over the head, slick with precome, and feels his rhythm stutter a little. “I’m gonna jerk off, just like this, get you nice and messy with my come and leave you to breathe it in until you’re begging for it, you hear me?”

“I’ll beg now,” Bucky says immediately, voice rough, “Sam, I- _please_.”

“Baby,” Sam laughs, “you’re so fucking needy, huh, you want it that fast? No, honey, you gotta wait for it.” He’s so hard, Jesus _Christ_ , and Bucky is watching him so intently, barely blinking, breathing fast. Sam touches Bucky’s hip like it’ll ground him, feels Bucky tilt up into the touch, and fuck, he wants to touch Bucky’s dick so bad, wants to lean down and suck it into his mouth, tease his tongue over the head of it until Bucky’s basically crying with how good it is, but he’s been _thinking_ about this, is the thing, thinking about it for months and months.

“Fuck,” he gasps, “oh _fuck-_ ” and comes in hot spurts all over Bucky’s stomach and chest. Bucky whines high in the back of his throat, arches his whole body up into it, he looks so hard it hurts and Sam’s only getting started here.

 

“Fuckin’ _goddamn_ ,” Bucky growls, “you got no idea, Sam, _fuck_ you smell good.”

“Yeah?” Sam asks. Swirls his fingers through the mess on Bucky’s stomach, strokes wet down the side of Bucky’s face. Traces his bottom lip, and Bucky sucks it into his mouth, moans like the taste of it on his tongue is wrecking him. “Perhaps I should just leave you like this for hours, huh? How long you think you can take it?”

“Jesus,” Bucky groans, “that’s low, Sam, playin’ this dirty,” and Sam runs his fingers down Bucky’s chest again, drips come into the hollow of Bucky’s throat, the dip of his upper lip. Gets it in Bucky’s hair just because he can, scrapes his fingers from Bucky’s hairline to the ends and then does it again, slower, working his fingers through the wavy strands. It’s curling at the ends, just a little, very soft. Bucky’s eyes are all black, wide and full of heat.

“You look so good like this,” Sam says, “god, look at you, it’s filthy. You like smelling me on you like this, Buck? I think you do.” Bucky opens his mouth in a silent gasp, shivers a little, and Sam leans over, kisses him again as messy as he can. Nips at Bucky’s lower lip, pulls back, looks down at his shirt. _Bucky’s_ shirt, fuck. “Whoops,” he says, “guess I should take this off, huh. Smells even more like you, though,” and unbuttons it slow, watching Bucky’s face the whole time. Strips it off, drops it on the floor, reaches over Bucky to grab the lube.

“ _Please_ tell me you’re about to fuck me,” Bucky says, his breath hitching, “fuck, sweetheart, please,” and Sam shakes his head.

“Nope,” he tells Bucky, “you gotta wait, sugar. Come on, be good for me like I asked, huh?”

“What-” Bucky says, voice wrecked, “what are you-” and Sam settles back, slicks up his fingers and splays his legs wide and begins to work himself open, making sure Bucky can see every wet slide of his fingers in and out.

“Oh,” he gasps, “ _oh_ , fuck, that’s good,” and Bucky moans at the sight, sinks his teeth into his lower lip. It is good, it’s so good, Sam hasn’t done this in a while and he’s so _tight_ , fuck, he’s got two fingers in up to the second knuckle and he feels full, stretched with it, and he’s gonna, he’s gonna have Bucky fuck him, that’s the plan, he’s gonna get himself wet and ready and then ride Bucky’s dick until they’re both losing it, that’s the _goddamn plan._

“ _Sam_ ,” Bucky moans, urgent, struggling against the restraints like he’s going out of his mind with it. He’s covered in Sam’s come and the smell of sex is thick in the air; it’s no fucking wonder he’s on the edge already. “Sam, darlin’, I swear to fuck I’m gonna come if you don’t. _Please_. Baby I just. You got no idea how good you look, how good you smell, Sam, shit, it’s too much.”

“Color?” Sam asks, pausing a minute. Pressing his palm warm over Bucky’s thigh, grounding. “You need to take a break?”

“No, green,” Bucky says, arching up into Sam’s touch, desperate for it, “green, _green_ , so fuckin’ green, I just- _fuck_ , Sam, you’re beautiful, I just can’t hardly take it, is all. I’m right on the fuckin’ edge here.”

“You’re not gonna come,” Sam tells him. Tightens his grip, digs his nails into Bucky’s thigh until he sees four bloodless crescents appear in the skin. “You’re not gonna come, because you’re being good for me, right?” Bucky throws his head back. Curls his hands into fists, cries out wordlessly, and Sam reaches for his dick, strokes slick fingers down Bucky’s length and squeezes the base of it hard, scratches a welt sharp down Bucky’s ribs. Bucky yells again, louder, catching in his throat. He’s gleaming with sweat, trembling, muscles going taut and then slack as he tries so very hard to be good, and Jesus _Christ_ Sam’s never been so turned on just looking at him.

“Yeah,” he says. Sinks three fingers back into his own ass, twists just enough to hit the right spot inside, can’t help how his voice goes low and breathless. “Yeah, baby, yeah, you’re doing so good for me. Just a little longer, huh?”

“ _Sam_ ,” Bucky chokes out, goes slack and pliant like he’s surrendering everything up, and that’s it, that’s fucking _it_ , Sam’s gotta have Bucky’s dick inside him right the fuck now. He pulls his fingers out, slicks Bucky’s dick with more lube, gets a leg over Bucky’s hip so he’s straddling him and then sinks down onto him in one long, slow stretch. Bucky is bigger than three fingers, thick and blood-hot, just the right side of pleasure-pain- _pleasure_ , fuck, it’s so good. Bucky’s eyes roll back in his head, his mouth falling open, and Sam rolls his hips, keeps going until Bucky’s bottoming out, all the way in and so fucking hard Sam can goddamn feel his pulse.

“That’s it,” Sam tells him. Touches his cheek with his clean hand, tender, and rolls his hips again, watches Bucky sob a little under his breath. “That’s it, baby, you’re being so good for me, I love it so much, _fuck_ , you feel good,” and Bucky sobs again, louder, a tear escaping the corner of his eye. Sam traces his fingers down Bucky’s cheek, his jaw, his throat. Sets his fingers on the collar and pushes, just enough to hear Bucky’s breath stutter and catch, and then scratches hard along his collarbone just the way he knows Bucky likes best.

“ _Oh_ ,” Bucky says, mouth round as it forms the sound like he’s beyond words, so desperate he’s floating with it, and Sam shifts his weight, leans forward and presses his palm flat on Bucky’s chest, rocks down onto Bucky’s dick.

“You can come when I do,” he tells Bucky, "not before," and wraps his hand around his own dick, begins to stroke himself slow and teasing, feeling it build up at the base of his spine. It’s wet and messy, slick with lube, and Sam’s thighs are burning a little with how he’s bouncing on Bucky’s dick, and Bucky is crying, face wet, lip bitten bloody. His whole body is arching up against Sam until he’s only touching the bed with his shoulders and thighs, a bridge made of hard muscle and bone and gleaming hot skin. Sam pushes him down, slaps his face and then strokes it, gentle. Slaps again, knowing how Bucky loves the hard-gentle-hard play of it, and Bucky gasps at the sting, turns his face for another slap like he’s begging without words.

“God,” Sam says, “you’re so pretty,” and indulges him, slaps him again, lets his fingers catch Bucky’s mouth just to hear the noise he makes. Gets his hand in Bucky’s hair and makes a fist, yanks his head back to bare his throat, leans in and bites hard enough it leaves a perfect ring of teeth-shaped marks in Bucky’s skin. Bucky howls, muscles cording under his skin as he struggles against the restraints, and Sam kisses him, bites at his lip, clenches around him. Feels his own come slide against his skin where he’s pressed up against Bucky, it’s so fucking filthy, they’re both covered in come and sweat and Sam’s gonna come again, he _is_ , he can feel it like a thunderstorm in the air. His ears ring and his vision fills with spots of light and he’s just making them even more of a mess, wet on both their bellies, _fuck_ it’s good.

 

As soon as he comes Bucky’s making a softly desperate noise in the back of his throat, filling Sam up in long hot pulses, shuddering and shaking apart and panting like he can’t catch his breath. Sam lowers his mouth to Bucky’s throat, bites again, feels Bucky’s dick twitch. Spreads himself out so he’s pressed as close to Bucky as possible, nuzzles at his throat, his cheek. Reaches for the restraints at Bucky’s wrists.

“Nhh,” Bucky murmurs, shaking his head, and Sam hesitates, pulls his hand back, strokes Bucky’s forehead. Wipes tears from the corner of his eye with the pad of his thumb.

“You doing okay, baby?”

“‘m fine,” Bucky says, voice slurring, “just need-” and goes slack underneath Sam, huffs out a shaky breath.

“You just need to be held down a little longer, huh?” Sam murmurs. Tucks his face into the curve of Bucky’s neck, stretches one arm out so he can grab Bucky’s hand. “Yeah, baby, I got you. You were so good for me, just like I asked.” Listens to Bucky’s breathing even out, feels his heartbeat return to less of a frantic hammer, and presses little kisses to Bucky’s collarbone, the scarring on his left shoulder.

“I was good?” Bucky asks eventually, voice soft, and Sam lifts his head up, rests his chin on Bucky’s chest, smiles up at him.

“You were so good, baby. Can I untie you?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, “yeah, that- yeah.” Sam’s pretty sure he wouldn’t mind being tied up like this all night, actually, but Sam wants to feel Bucky touching him, so. He flicks the wrist restraints open, trying not to move too much, but Bucky’s dick still slips out, and Sam winces at the feeling of come sliding down his inner thigh, makes a face. Bucky smirks, starts laughing. Touches Sam’s cheek.

“Shut up,” Sam says, “it-”

“Oh, god, I bet you’re so wet,” Bucky says. Reaches down, squeezes Sam’s butt and then slips his fingers lower, presses the pad of his middle finger against Sam’s hole. Traces around the rim and then slides in with no resistance, slick and messy. “Fuck, you _are_ , that’s so fucking hot, you have no idea how much I want to get my mouth on you right now.”

“I can’t believe you’re - oh _fuck_ \- you’re not completely fucked out right now,” Sam tells him. Pushes back against Bucky’s fingers, feeling how hyper-sensitive he is to the touch. Actually, he can’t believe _he’s_ not completely fucked out right now, but Bucky loves this, eating Sam out after they fuck, and Sam must be.

Sam must be expecting it, or something, because the thought of Bucky licking him clean is making his whole brain buzz a little like he’s overheated.

“Later,” he says, with effort. “Come on, let me get your ankles out of those cuffs already. I’m trying to do aftercare here, for shit’s sake.”

“Sweetheart, nothing would make me feel better than eating your ass until you cry,” Bucky says with a smirk, kissing Sam behind the ear where he knows Sam is sensitive, scraping his teeth across the skin just a little, but he pulls his hand back anyway, lets Sam uncuff him and pass him a bottle of water. Drinks, thirstily, as Sam gets up on shaky legs, goes to the bathroom, comes back with a warm washcloth.

“You are so fucking filthy,” Sam tells him, fond. “I swear to god, you are _covered_.”

“Leave it,” Buck shrugs, “I like it,” and Sam rolls his eyes, wipes the salt-sweat-teartracks off his face at least. Drinks a couple of mouthfuls of water himself, and collapses back into bed, drapes himself over Bucky and feels his heat radiate right into Sam’s bones.

“You think Steve really had work stuff to do, going away?” he asks after a few minutes, tracing patterns lightly over Bucky’s hip, the flat plane of his belly, and Bucky snickers.

“Nah,” he says. “I bet he just hoped we’d get the loud shit out of our systems,” and Sam laughs softly.

“You think we’re there yet?”

“Not a chance, sweetheart,” Bucky says with satisfaction, touching Sam’s chin and tipping his face up for a kiss. “I bet I can make you scream.”

 

Sam screams so loud he’s still hoarse when Steve gets home a couple days later. Bucky is real smug about it. Bucky’s marked up, though, bruises everywhere, Sam’s teeth marks on his throat and chest and tender on the insides of his thighs, so Sam thinks it’s probably a fair enough trade.

“Something you’re not telling me?” Steve says, cautious, glancing from Sam to Bucky’s neck and back to Sam, and Sam frowns.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We didn’t fuck in your bed, by the way.”

“The wall in the hallway, though,” Bucky offers helpfully. “Sam bet I couldn’t fuck him holding him up with just one hand.”

“He can,” Sam says. “Just so you know. He definitely can.”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve sighs. “I’m moving out, you hear me? I’m moving the fuck out.”

“I mean,” Bucky says, smiling in the way that shows all of his teeth, “we didn’t want to _ask_ , pal, but…”

“This is what you wanted all along,” Steve says, accusatory, and Bucky just grins harder, looks sideways at Sam, and Sam bites his lip, because yeah. He’s only ever been giving Bucky exactly what he wants, is the thing.

**Author's Note:**

> yes i am on tumblr, may i recommend my [soft werewolf sebastian stan](http://notcaycepollard.tumblr.com/tagged/soft-werewolf-sebastian-stan) tag


End file.
